


Smoke

by mystiri1



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Cigarettes, Community: areyougame, M/M, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-04
Updated: 2010-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where there's smoke...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke

Cid never smoked while aboard the airship. He'd never risk a stray spark doing irreparable damage, and too many of the substances that kept the Highwind running were flammable. He'd lost her once, and had no intention of losing her again. And the rush of flying far outweighed mere nicotine cravings any day.

But as soon as they touched down and the engines cooled, he headed outside for a cigarette.

He leaned against the hull, and tugged out his pack, making a mental note to buy a new one while he was in town. The unlit cigarette that dangled from his mouth was spat aside contemptuously; although habit kept it there even when he couldn't smoke it, the end was now soggy and well-chewed. Cid pulled out a new one, lit it and took a long, hard drag.

His eyes drifted shut as he breathed in the smoke, holding it in his lungs for several long seconds. Then he breathed out, a slow, satisfied exhalation as the nicotine hit his system. Maybe he didn't need to smoke when he was in the air, but when he was on the ground it was a god-damned pleasure.

He sucked in another lungful of fragrant smoke, and felt his shoulders relax. He loved piloting, didn't even mind this crazy quest of theirs – even if it was likely to get them all killed sooner or later – but there was something soothing about just being a man enjoying a cigarette, and not some would-be hero out to take on a mega-corporation and an insane, half-alien ex-general. For a few moments he could forget about all that. He pursed his lips and exhaled, a contented sigh.

After a few minutes, he began to feel like somebody was watching him. His eyes popped open.

Perched on a rock a few feet away was Vincent, watching him with an almost frightening intensity. But then, Vincent seemed to do most things that way, either scarily intent or totally disinterested. Cid wasn't quite so sure what was so interesting about watching him smoke, though.

Maybe he should offer the man a cigarette.

He tried to picture Vincent smoking. He could almost see it, although Vincent would have to take off or at least undo that cape of his first, given how high the collar was. Just pushing it aside wouldn't be enough: too much risk that he'd accidentally set himself alight. As old as that fabric clearly was, it'd probably go up like a candle.

He sucked in another deep breath, and Vincent shifted slightly. The man's eyes were focused, Cid realised, on his mouth. He tugged the cigarette free of his lips, and breathed out a long trail of smoke. Nothing. He wondered if maybe Vincent was one of those people who disliked smoking; Shera was always after him to quit, and Tifa had made a few remarks about it being a nasty habit, but Cid hadn't figured the ex-Turk for being the judgemental type. And Vincent still wasn't saying anything, just staring.

Another drag, mouth curled around the filter, cheeks hollowing slightly as he sucked hard on the cigarette, and this time, Cid thought he heard Vincent growl.

His lips parted to release the smoke, and then suddenly the cigarette was knocked aside and he found himself crushed up against the heated metal at his back. Sharp points bit into his hip, the brassy claws of Vincent's gauntlet clutching tightly at sparse flesh, and he was grateful for the layer of denim shielding his skin. There was more strength and far more warmth in Vincent's lean frame than Cid expected, and then Vincent's mouth covered his and he stopped thinking about anything.

It was hot, and wet, and hungry, and Cid thought maybe he heard another growl in there, which would explain a lot because this seemed just a little bit wilder than Vincent usually was – not that he was complaining. As soon as he got over his shock, he kissed back, because as unexpected as this was, he wasn't sure how long it was going to last, either.

Finally Vincent drew back just a little, and Cid found himself staring at the man's face, for once unhidden by concealing fabric, as the last few tendrils of smoke escaped from between their parted lips. He really was too pale, and had eyelashes most women would kill for, Cid noted, but his eyes had darkened to a shade that reminded him of his favourite blend of tea, and they still watched him with almost feral intensity. When Cid failed to object, Vincent kissed him again.

If this was the response a single cigarette got him, Cid decided, he'd be damned if he was going to give up smoking any time soon.


End file.
